The Dragon's Masque
by RiverWriter
Summary: Hogwarts is holding a Valentine's masquerade ball and this might just be Hermione's opportunity to reconnect with somebody she thought she'd lost.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

One day, while on vacation in the south of France when she was three years old, Hermione Granger disappeared.

Her parents swore they just looked away for a matter of seconds and she was gone. She re-appeared just as suddenly on their beach blanket three hours later.

The police brushed it off, they said that it happened all the time during the high season. Children wandered off into the crowds, it was nothing out of the ordinary. But the Grangers were less than convinced, because this was not the first time something strange had happened to their daughter.

But then they seemed to forget their concerns. By the time the next year rolled around, almost like magic, they had forgotten about their daughter's tendency to wander off. She was gone for twice as long that time.

After that she began to talk about the dragon. A magic dragon made of light who appeared and led her to her friend, who was apparently also a dragon. Their little girl spoke of her dragons with such fondness and enthusiasm that the Grangers were actually charmed by the tale, she did love her stories, and this wasn't anywhere near the wildest or most disturbing thing she'd ever imagined.

The same thing happened the following year, but this time she did not return alone. She was holding the hand of a beautiful blonde woman whose other hand was grasping that of an equally towheaded child. The woman changed their world with one phrase: "Hello, my name is Narcissa Malfoy and I have something to tell you. Your daughter is a witch." Her parents, eager for an explanation of their daughter's strange abilities thankfully didn't immediately throw her out.

And so, she got to spend glorious, wonderful days with a boy who accepted her in a way none of the children she went to school with ever had, and understood her instinctively in a way that she was certain nobody else ever could. They frolicked and laughed and chased each other up and down the pristine beaches in front of the Malfoy's French villa. The three adults smiled at how free they were. Nothing had ever felt more right to any of them.

Until the year Hermione turned nine, when the boy and his mother simply never turned up for their French holiday. She was nearly inconsolable for weeks. But then one night after they'd returned to England she suddenly got up from the dinner table, wandered into her back garden and laid down in the grass so that she could gaze at the sky. Her parents followed her curiously, concerned about this abrupt change of behavior.

"I'm checking on Draco, and he needs to see me too," she'd explained, and had refused to go back inside until his constellation was bright in the sky.

She didn't see the way they exchanged dubious looks, and if she had she wouldn't have cared. She just knew this was the thing to be done. She checked on him every night thereafter, and didn't sleep well when it was cloudy.

The entire family was relieved when Professor McGonagall arrived with Hermione's Hogwarts letter. It had been two full years since they'd seen the Malfoys and the magical world was starting to feel like something they'd dreamed up. None of them mentioned that they already knew Hermione was a witch to the older woman, they just smiled and asked all the appropriate questions.

The following September, Hermione boarded the Hogwarts Express with her heart in her throat. She recognized Draco the minute that she saw him and she could tell that he recognized her as well, but there was nothing of the little boy she'd loved in the sneering face of the person she encountered on the train. It was soul wrenching.

And after that it only got worse. In many ways he seemed even further away from her when he was just across the castle as he had when he'd been across the country, because she had to watch him snub her, and scorn others like her, and that was more painful than simply missing him. She mourned him, but she never stopped checking on his stars in the night sky. She never stopped feeling guarded and comforted by the Draco who resided in the heavens.

It wasn't until their third year, after she'd slapped him, that she saw the dragon made of light again, he just appeared when she was alone in the library. Now, she had a much better idea of what he really was, but that didn't make his appearance any less amazing. She followed him immediately, instinctively. He led her to her long-lost friend who had sequestered himself in an abandoned classroom; his cheek still red from where her hand had struck him, his eyes were suspiciously glassy, and he finally looked like that gentle boy she'd longed to see again for years.

"I've missed you," she said quietly.

"I'm sorry," he replied.

She just sat down next to him and placed her head on his shoulder. She knew by now- from personal experience- that Lucius Malfoy was a dangerous man. And while she didn't know why Draco and his mother had suddenly stopped coming to France, she assumed his father had something to do with it.

She was even more certain that he was the reason for Draco's sudden intolerance of muggleborns. It was hard to be angry with him for being unwilling to openly defy a man who was willing to unleash a monster inside a school full of children, including his own son, in an attempt to eradicate people like her. As long as her Draco was back, she wouldn't hold his actions against him.

He put an arm around her and she curled into his side. When she wrapped his other arm around her she let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding for five years. "I'm sorry," he repeated, over and over as he clung to her like he'd never let her go.

After that they fell in love swiftly, or maybe they'd been falling for the entirety of their childhoods; exchanging soft kisses in empty classrooms and hidden alcoves, sneaking off for whispered conversations, surreptitiously passing notes between classes. She felt giddy and alive and worried she sometimes acted a little too much like her giggling, boy-crazy roommates. She consoled herself that she was only crazy for one boy and he was absolutely worth it.

It continued like that for more than a year, until her best friend, Harry Potter, appeared via portkey in front of the entire school after the final task of the Tri-Wizard tournament, bloodied, clutching the body of a classmate, and screaming that Voldemort was back. For very different reasons they both knew he was telling the truth. And just like that they were at odds again.

They managed to pretend that wasn't true for another year- ducking and avoiding their friends and family and their questions. Ignoring the harsh reality of the war being fought outside the walls of the castle. Meeting in private. Living for those meetups.

Without even really thinking about it, he started to teach her some of the things he'd learned from his father over the years- anything to help her survive- and she started to teach him all the things Harry was showing them in the D.A. which was a much more pleasant experience for them both.

She smiled at him after she'd demonstrated the patronus charm for him, "you can do it sweetheart," she encouraged.

"Come here," he smirked at her in that way that always made her want to go kiss it off his face.

"Why?" She challenged, crossing her arms over her chest and refusing to simply give into him, however much she wanted to, he'd be insufferable if he thought she could be so easily ordered about.

"Well you said I need a good memory, right? I have many standing right here with me in the flesh."

This time she couldn't help but grin and nod to him. He snagged her around the waist and pulled her against his chest, buried his face in her neck and breathed her in, "Expecto Patronum."

In her experience people tended to nearly shout the spell, as if the volume of their voice would amplify the emotion, but he just murmured it quietly against her skin, like a prayer. She was not surprised when he produced a full patronus. She knew what he was capable of, he was a powerful wizard, and she could feel the positive emotions radiating from him.

However, that did not detract from her wonder when a familiar dragon appeared before them. Hermione bit back a sob at the nearly solid figure and reached forward to touch him, but instead of flesh, what she felt was a wave of love so overpowering that it would have knocked her over if Draco hadn't been holding her.

"All this time," he said, voice filled with awe, "my magic has been seeking you out since I was three years old."

"He's so beautiful, Draco, how could I not have been drawn to him?" She ghosted her fingertips over the hands at her waist, almost desperate to reassure him.

"I think it's the other way around, he was clearly drawn to you."

"I love you too," she whispered hoarsely.

Days later, when she woke up in the hospital wing to the news that their little excursion to the Ministry had resulted in the arrest of eleven Death Eaters, including one Lucius Malfoy, she worried that she may have lost him again. He had helped them defy Umbridge, fed her information about the Inquisitorial Squad so that she could safely arrange DA meetings. He'd even helped them escape so that they could go to the Ministry. But it was one thing to help her quietly and another to expect him to openly take sides, and the side of people who had incarcerated his father, at that.

So, she was shocked when almost the moment she was discharged from the hospital wing he managed to track her down and drag her- not that she put up a fight- to the Room of Requirement where he proceeded to make love to her for the first time. He was so tender, so passionate, all the time murmuring words of love and adoration, and unnecessary apologies.

And she allowed herself to believe that they might actually make it through the coming storm intact. She slept in total peace, entangled with him that night, not knowing that outside a dragon- formed from love- was keeping watch, or that she would end up clinging to the memories of those hours in order to produce her own patronus in the coming months as they were the last good ones she'd make for a long time.

The next day was the end of term and they parted with a kiss and an exchange of sentiments of love, and rejoined their respective houses to board the Hogwarts Express.

It was too dangerous to correspond over the summer, so as much as she would have liked to hear from him, she was not surprised when she didn't. However, she was surprised and disheartened when he didn't so much as glance her way on the platform on September first. It was the beginning of a nightmare the likes of which she never could have imagined.

She didn't get a good look at him until that night, and when she finally did she discovered that he looked terrible. He ignored all of her efforts to get his attention and in the following days he refused to so much as look at her, much less take the notes she tried to pass him or meet her in their usual spots. When she finally got desperate enough to send him an owl he shredded the parchment without even reading it and dumped the pieces in his pumpkin juice. She had to hint to Harry and Ron that she was having female problems to get them to lay off the issue of why she was so upset.

Harry was convinced that Draco was up to something and she knew, without a doubt, that he was, because she knew him. But she couldn't share that with her impetuous friend, he would ask too many questions. And despite his behavior, despite how terrified she was of what he may have been embroiled in, she still felt fiercely protective of Draco. And nothing good could come from Harry having his hunch confirmed, it would just make things worse.

She was sick for days after Katie Bell was cursed, and continued to cry herself to sleep for weeks, though that was nothing new. She spent many nights curled up against a window in her dorm gazing at his constellation until the sun came up and she could no longer see him. It was the only thing that brought her any comfort as she watched her Draco deteriorate in front of her eyes. She wondered if he knew he was taking her apart along with him.

But, much more heart shattering than that, she worried that her Draco had been buried so deep inside the shell of the man who attended classes with her, that he wouldn't even care if he did know.

The holidays were a special kind of hell on earth that made her glad that Harry was so distracted by obsessing over Draco and that stupid potions books, and Ron too busy attempting to eat Lavender's face, for them to notice that the supposed season of joy had hastened her unraveling. She took Cormac McLaggen to Slughorn's Christmas party in a blatant attempt to make Draco jealous, and pay back some of the hurt he'd rent upon her. She would never forgive herself for the look on his face when he was dragged into the party and saw them together. She was so disgusted with herself that she left immediately, not bothering to inform her date, she burned her dress and took a scalding hot shower, scouring her skin until it was raw.

At the start of the new term it was announced that there was to be a Valentine's Masquerade Ball. She could only assume that some people were feeling more positive about life than she was if they still felt like holding such a fanciful celebration in the middle of a war- she suspected Dumbledore. When she heard about it she had no intention of attending, she'd learned her lesson at Christmas, even Harry and Ron's platonic touches nearly made her skin crawl these days.

But then, a week before the event, a large package arrived for her. The note affixed to the top had her name scrawled across it in handwriting she would have recognized anywhere. She looked up and met his eyes and even from across the Great Hall she could tell that they were dark with need.

At that moment he brought a bright red apple to his lips and took a very deliberate bite, and for the first time in a long time she felt that heady, heated rush of desire that was once so familiar when she looked at him. She quickly covered her flushed cheeks with her hands, and then gathered her things and rushed back to her dorm before anybody could question her.

Ensconced in the safety of her curtained bed she opened the note first.

_H,_

_I realize that I have probably forfeited the right to ask anything of you, but if you can find it within yourself, please wear these and come to the Masquerade Ball. I will see you there. I have always been and will forever be-_

_Yours,_

_D_

Hermione blinked at the note and read it again, and then again. Something about those last words. She felt like she was missing something, but when she kept coming up with nothing she shook it off.

She hastily tore at the wrapping and opened the box. Inside was an outfit obviously designed for a Gryffindor. The delicate gold filigree mask and red satin heels were beautiful, in and of themselves. And the ruby necklace which almost made her faint when she saw it was exquisite. Oh, but the dress, the dress was a work of art: gold, strapless, and one look told her it would hug her every curve until it flared out below her knees to the floor. It shimmered with a layered scalloped design that looked like nothing so much as scales, not like those of a snake, but of a dragon. And then a wrap, in various shades of crimson and gold that, when draped across her shoulders would resemble an abstract rendition of wings. Only they would know it, but he'd dressed her as his namesake, as their protector. She bit back a sob.

She was angry with him.

But now she was also curious, and she would never deny him this request even if she thought she had the willpower to stay away from him.

She dressed with care the night of the masque and she didn't miss the way her roommates' eyed her like they'd never seen her before when she was finished. Everything Draco had sent her had been beautiful, but put together as an ensemble, even she could admit that she looked stunning, but she didn't stick around long enough to allow them to ask questions.

She made her way to the Great Hall, looking around as she did so, wondering when he would approach her. If he even would. She knew he was in trouble, that any interaction between them would probably be highly dangerous, so perhaps he'd truly only wanted to see her dressed up for him and that was all this was. She told herself that she was okay with that, that it was enough that he'd contacted her, let her know that he was thinking of her and that _her_ Draco was still in there.

But she'd no sooner walked in the door when he approached her. He should have been unrecognizable, but she would have known him anywhere, and she quickly saw the signs of a glamour charm hovering around him, especially given how attuned she was to his magic. He wasn't anywhere near the only person using one tonight, so even if anybody else noticed it, it shouldn't be too alarming. And so, for once, they could be together in the open.

He took her into his arms, as easy as breathing and guided her onto the dance floor. They moved together naturally and for three dances they were silent, just holding each other and reveling in the others presence. She breathed him in and tried to memorize the way he felt in her arms.

"I've been dreaming of you in this gown for weeks, but it doesn't even begin to compare to the reality of how you look."

"How long have you been planning this?"

"I couldn't even say, honestly. Probably longer than I'd admit to myself."

"You have very good taste."

"Of course I do, the woman in my arms is all the proof I need of that."

"Smooth talker," she smiled against his shoulder.

The were silent again for awhile.

"Hermione, I don't wish to make you miss the party but I was hoping to talk to you and I selfishly want you all to myself."

She didn't hesitate. "Let's go."

**Author's Note: For those of you reading my other WIPs, never fear, this was just a little thing I was inspired to write for Valentine's Day which just happened to divide neatly into three parts all of which will be posted in the next few days, I'm just cleaning up the other two chapters. So, I haven't started some huge new project. This piece was inspired by a mood board the lovely Trinkisme made last year for Valentine's Day. If you'd like to see it, it's on my Tumblr. I've also made a Pinterest board for this mini-story in case you want to see the inspiration (mostly) for Hermione's masquerade outfit. I'm RiverWriter on Tumblr and Pinterest as well. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

He took her hand and led them away from the Great Hall and up to the seventh floor and the blank patch of wall across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

"You do the thinking," she encouraged him; as far as she was concerned this was his show.

He nodded and began to pace. In a matter of seconds a door appeared in front of them.

"You've been spending a lot of time in this room this year," she observed as he opened the door and gestured her inside.

"Potter is as subtle as a bludger, I know he's been practically stalking me, so of course you know about that too," he snorted. "And yes, I have, not this version of it though." He looked around and nodded, seemingly satisfied with the results. It was a cozy bedroom with a roaring fire. "I have no expectations tonight," he glanced towards the bed and then back to her. "I have a lot of hope, of course, but no expectations."

She nodded and he took her hand again and walked them to the small sofa in front of the fireplace. She settled on one end but he didn't sit down himself. Instead, he paced, removed his mask, canceled his glamours and then began to remove his robes as well. Once they were tossed aside he turned to face her, took a deep breath and gave her a long searching look.

"I have to show you something, but before I do, please know that I love you and I have every single moment of every day since we met. It's the only thing in my life that has never faltered. And I swear, everything I've done in the past seven months has been to get back to you. Will you at least promise to hear me out?"

Hermione had never been so terrified in her life as she was by that declaration and she could only bring herself to utter one word. "Okay."

He began to roll up the left sleeve of his shirt and Hermione held her breath and prayed she could keep it together long enough to allow him to at least explain what she was certain she was about to see. But she couldn't help the gasp that escaped her lips when the mark on his arm came into view.

It wasn't just the hideousness of the Dark Mark which shocked her, his entire forearm was red and inflamed, it looked like he had a bad infection. She had never seen a Dark Mark on a person before, but surely this wasn't normal.

She twisted her fingers together to prevent herself from tugging at her hair which was her usual response to anxiety. "Oh Merlin, Draco! Are you...are you ill?!"

"No. It's not hurting me, well it is, but I'm okay, that's not what really matters." His expression screwed into one of pure misery and he dropped to his knees and placed his head on her lap. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"Yes," the word was out of her mouth before she'd even considered it, but as soon as she said it she knew it was true. "I know you Draco, you hate that mark, you wouldn't have taken it if you had a single choice in the matter."

He let out a choking breath and she tunneled her fingers through his hair in an attempt to comfort him. "He had my mother," he sobbed.

Hermione thought her heart might break but all she could do was hold his head against her abdomen, pet his hair and let him cry it out. When he finally lifted his head again she cupped his face in her hands, drying his tears with her thumbs, and just looked at him, _her_ Draco. He'd been there all along. He was smiling at her, looking at her like she was his whole world, his pale hair appeared to glow in the firelight and it actually made her breath catch in her chest. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

He squeezed his eyes shut and two final tears rolled down his cheeks. "Funny, I was thinking the same thing." He surged forward and kissed her, she responded, pouring all of her love for him into it and hoping he could feel it.

When they parted he stood up and sat down next to her on the couch. After rolling his sleeve back down, he hauled her into his arms. He brushed his fingertips along her cheek. "Will you take this off? I want to be able to see your whole face."

She smiled to herself, she'd completely forgotten about the mask. She untied it and dropped it aside.

"There you are," he smiled, tracing his thumbs tenderly over the newly revealed skin beneath her eyes.

"Well, now that we're both literally unmasked, why don't you tell me what's been going on?"

He allowed himself a little chuckle over her joke but it quickly faded and he sighed and gathered her closer with both arms.

"I knew it would be dangerous to go home last summer, I knew my crazy aunt would be around and it would probably be a very unpleasant couple of months. But I didn't feel like I had a choice. I needed the time to gather some resources and convince my mother that we should go seek shelter with your Order. I knew you would vouch for us."

"Of course I would have! But why didn't you tell me any of this before we left school?"

He rubbed his chin against the top of her head. "Because despite everything, Mother loves Father and I didn't know how long it would take to convince her to essentially give up on him. Our defection would likely mean his death."

"Oh Draco," she sighed.

"It's okay, I've accepted it, I think I knew in the back of my mind that it was going to come to this ever since the Dark Lord returned. I was never going to choose him over you."

She kissed his jaw. What kind of awful choices had he been forced to make?

He kissed her temple in return. "It wasn't even a hard decision, in the end," he murmured, his voice a low, soothing hum against her skull. "Anyway, it stupidly didn't occur to me that the Dark Lord would seek to punish me directly for my father's failure."

"Oh no," she let out on a breath, she was beginning to get the picture and it was terrible. She wanted to tuck her face into his neck to avoid having to see his pain, but she resisted, he deserved more from her than that.

He squeezed her shoulders. "Though I don't know what I would have done differently if I had considered it; perhaps been more forceful with Mother? I don't think it would have made a difference because I'd barely been home a week when the Dark Lord suddenly appeared." He pursed his lips, a sure sign of distress. Draco was usually able to keep his face completely blank. He let out a long breath. "There was no opportunity to run," it came out like an admission of guilt which infuriated her.

But this was no time for her own anger. He swallowed, this was obviously very difficult for him to say aloud, so she took his hand and intertwined their fingers, trying to infuse him with the strength of her devotion to him.

"He informed me that he wished to _honor_ me and my family by marking me and giving me a task." His eyes shot to hers. "I swear to you Hermione, I never intended to be loyal to him, I was going to let him mark me so that he wouldn't harm Mother, and then the first chance I got I was going to go to Dumbledore and offer what assistance I could."

He'd been so brave, and she'd thought the worst of him. Hermione allowed her eyes to briefly fall shut before she forced herself to look at him again and offer him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"I believe you, love."

His answering smile was grateful. "But then, well you've seen it, the mark didn't take properly, and I was certain he was just going to kill me right there."

Hermione blinked back tears. "But he didn't."

"He didn't. Actually he just laughed, he thought it was a sign of my weakness- joke's on him- and it took well enough so that he can still torture and control me, and that was good enough for him."

She thought, for the first time, that she might truly understand the term 'homicidal.'

"What do you mean joke's on him?" She forced herself to ask, this was not the time to become enraged, that was clearly not what he needed from her at the moment.

"He thought the fact that the mark wouldn't attach to my core, to the very soul of me, meant that I wasn't strong enough to hold his magic- that it was basically overpowering me. But I knew right away that it was the opposite." He peered at her, tapped her chin until her teary eyes met his. "It was because I'm strong, my magic was doing everything it could to reject such an insidious thing, and it's because of how much I love you."

She could only stare at him, wide-eyed and then brushed two kisses against his mouth before rubbing her thumb against his lower lip. "Go ahead, love, I'm here."

He picked up her hand and pressed it to his cheek. "He was there the whole time, Hermione, our dragon, protecting me and comforting me. I must have been the only one who could see him or I'm sure I'd be dead, but I guess that's not unprecedented- I mean how many times have only the two of us been aware of him?"

"Oh wow, Draco," she could no longer hold back tears and she wiped at her face frantically with her free hand; he quickly offered her a handkerchief which made her chuckle. She loved her friends, but they were so clumsy in the way that they cared for her, they never would have thought to make such a gesture. She doubted either of them even owned a handkerchief anyway. She'd missed Draco desperately.

"Bear with me," he continued, "this is about to get harder."

"I'm in this with you now Draco, go ahead." She squeezed his hand.

"I was heartbroken. I may have drank quite a lot of my father's firewhiskey at first," he rubbed the back of his neck and looked at her, almost daring her to scold him.

"I think I can look past that this one time," she kissed him again.

"Such a forgiving witch," he quirked a smile, but quickly sobered. "I was attached to that monster, even if it wasn't in the way his followers were usually attached to him. And how could I be with you, how could I even look at you when that was true? On top of that, the task he gave me made me feel dirty even though I never intended to even try to complete it."

She grasped his shirt, desperate to keep him with her, the foreboding feeling in her gut becoming overwhelming. "You're _mine_," she spat and had the satisfaction of watching his eyes dilate. "Now, what's the task?"

"To murder the headmaster."

Hermione had never been so shocked in her life, she just sat there staring at him until a few things clicked into place. "That's the real reason he didn't care that the mark didn't take, isn't it? He'd given you a suicide mission. _That_ was your father's real punishment."

He smiled grimly at her, but his eyes practically glowed with affection, he kissed her temple again. She'd so missed that simple affectionate gesture. "You're so fucking brilliant. It took me weeks to work that out."

"Yeah, well, you were under quite a bit of pressure at the time." She was brought up short as another thought occurred to her. "Wait, is that what happened with Katie Bell? She said she was meant to deliver that necklace to Professor Dumbledore."

"Yes, but not by me."

"Well of course it wasn't you! You already said you planned to go to Dumbledore and I very much doubt he authorized you to give a cursed necklace to a student."

He just stared at her. "Thank you," he breathed.

"For what?"

"For believing in me."

She laughed, self loathing beginning to set in. "I doubted you the whole of this year Draco, I think I have years of apologies ahead of me for that."

He shook his head. "You were meant to be confused, that was part of the plan, the easiest way to keep you safe was to keep you away from me for the time being. But you never gave up on me, I know you didn't. Whenever I had a little time in the evenings I'd disillusion myself and sneak outside so that I could watch you sitting in your dorm window looking at my constellation. Honestly, it's the thing that's kept me sane these past months."

"Oh." She licked her lips, strangely nervous and plowed on. "Well do you know who it was?"

He nodded. "Nott."

"His father was at the Ministry too," she realized.

"The Dark Lord is attempting to stack his deck- the more of us who are trying to accomplish the task, the greater the chance one of us will succeed. Also, I think he just enjoys pitting us against each other, he wants us scrambling for favor."

"Everytime I think he can't get more twisted," she murmured to herself.

"Oh you have no idea," he laughed, but it was not a happy sound by any measure. "It's actually repulsive, being in his presence. I don't know why anybody would do it willingly. At one point he was apparently very charming, but now he just rules by fear, it's really rather pathetic." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, as soon as I could manage to go to Diagon Alley and use an owl that couldn't be traced back to me I sent a note to Dumbledore, I met with him the first night back at school."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What was that business with Harry on the Hogwarts Express though? You broke his nose, Draco! He almost wasn't discovered before the train returned to London and who knows how long it would have been before he was found?"

His features hardened. "I was attempting to teach Potter a lesson he apparently didn't learn. It's dangerous to go lurking about, for one thing. And the last thing I needed this year was Potter drawing unnecessary attention to me, and that's exactly what he's been doing. He doesn't have the full view of things and yet he still refuses to stop poking his nose where it doesn't belong. You'd think he would have learned his lesson about going off half-cocked on partial information when he almost got you killed at the Ministry!"

Hermione opened her mouth to argue with him, them closed it again. Because weren't those some of the same exact frustrations she had with Harry?

She brought his hand which was still resting on her cheek to the place between her breasts which still bore the scar from the curse she'd taken at the Ministry. "I'm okay, Draco."

"You and I both know that was luck." He let out a long breath. "Are you going to yell at me about Potter or can I go on?"

"Go on," she sighed, keeping his hand clasped to her chest.

"Here I must ask your forgiveness again," he ghosted his lips along her hairline. "I told Dumbledore pretty much everything. I'm sorry I didn't guard your privacy better, but I thought that it was important that he understood how I felt about you and what we'd been through together."

"That's okay love, I'm not ashamed of anything that's happened between us."

"Thank you."

"How did the headmaster react when you told him about your task?"

"He already knew."

"Wha- Oh, Professor Snape," she realized.

Draco looked at her like he wanted to eat her alive- in the best way- and pulled her all the way onto his lap.

She wriggled a bit to settle herself and was gratified when he groaned, she grinned at him. "Hi again."

"Merlin's balls I've missed you. I swear, I'm literally surrounded by idiots these days and it's insufferable."

"That's what you've missed, my brain?" She laughed.

"Well, maybe a few other things too." He reached up and gently cupped one breast, but his face was so tentative, she leaned into his touch to make sure he knew that she was as eager as he was to be with him again- in every way that there was.

He tucked his face into her neck and reared back when he was greeted by hard metal and gemstones.

"I knew this necklace would make you look absolutely regal, but now it's in my way," he declared as he removed the piece, which could actually be more accurately described as something like a high necked collar in the Renaissance style that was just made out of gold, rubies, and pearls instead of fabric. It had made her feel like a queen, but she was just as anxious as he was to remove any barrier between them.

"You went a little overboard tonight, don't you think Draco?" She smiled as she watched him set the jewelry carefully on the coffee table in front of them.

"I think I was absolutely onboard," he countered.

"It's a good thing most of the kids in this school are too naive to recognize couture and real jewels or I'd be facing a lot of questions." She cut her eyes at him with a little smirk.

"As if I'd ever allow my lady to wear _costume jewelry_," he scoffed.

"Your lady?"

He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. "I'll ask one day, properly." He turned the hand over and kissed her palm. "But I think we both know it's been a foregone conclusion since we were toddlers."

She leaned in and kissed him, hard. "Your confidence tells me that you and Professor Dumbledore came up with a solution to this little problem?" She brushed her fingers over his left forearm.

"Well, when I told you I explained everything to Dumbledore, I meant it. He believed me when I said that the mark didn't settle into my magic because of you, but he took it one step further. He hypothesized that because of that, with your help, it could be removed."

"Draco! That's amazing!"

"Yeah," he grinned, "we found the solution a few weeks ago."

"Weeks! Why is that disgusting thing still on your arm?! You should have come to me immediately!"

He blushed. "Well, beside the fact that I still had a role to play, I was nervous about approaching you. I've been actively avoiding you for months and I wanted to make things perfect."

"So you took advantage of the masquerade to make a typically Malfoy grand gesture?" She guessed, amused, despite herself.

"Honestly, I think Dumbledore might have planned this whole thing to spur me into action. It's like the man can't help himself with his meddling, and he made sure to tell me he'd ensure that this room remained unoccupied tonight."

"I don't know if I should be thankful or horrified," she giggled. "So, what do you need me to do?"

"Do?"

She gestured to his marred arm.

"Oh, no, not tonight. I still have some things I need to do, some things I've promised to do before we basically cut my connection. But now the plans are in place, Mother has agreed to them, it finally felt safe to tell you. It felt wrong to keep it from you any more."

"Oh," she pouted for a moment. "You're doing something stupidly brave, aren't you? You're _supposed_ to be a Slytherin."

"I'm doing something to give the Light a leg up in the hope that sooner, rather than later, you and I can be together in the open and live the life we've always dreamed of."

She certainly couldn't fault him for that, but she hated it. "Is it really dangerous?"

"More for others than for me," he regarded her, looking much older than his sixteen years and she forced herself to meet his eyes. "I'll tell you if you want, I knew you'd be curious."

She took a soothing breath and considered everything she'd been told, doing her best to make a mature decision. "Tell me if I can help," she eventually answered. "Otherwise I get the distinct impression that it's safer for everybody if I don't know."

"That's the general rule. I know you would never give us up intentionally, but the more people who know the specifics of an operation the more likely it is to be compromised."

Hermione cringed, he'd changed a lot since they'd last been together. He'd been _forced_ to change. "You sound like a soldier."

He shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure I don't qualify at this point. I'll give you more details as the time approaches but I should tell you that the plan involves faking my death, so I'll need your help getting this mark off of my arm as soon as possible afterwards, otherwise he will know it's all a ruse."

"Of course." Her answer was automatic.

"It's sex magic," he blurted, and looked away from her immediately.

For a moment she blanched. "Does it involve us having sex with others present? Or with other people?"

He opened his mouth but she cut him off.

"Nevermind, I'd have an orgy with you in front of the whole of the ICW if it meant freeing you from that monster."

He let out a startled laugh. "No, it would just be the two of us. Actually, it's pretty important that it's just the two of us. And it will only work if if you love me- do you still love me?"

"Of course I do, of course I do. Literally nothing could change that." She took his face in her hands and brought her forehead to his. "Nothing," she reiterated.

"Okay, I would just never want to assume, Hermione. Things between us have changed and I don't feel like I have any right to you anymore. Not that I ever had any right to demand sex from you."

She took a deep breath and placed her hand at the back of this neck to keep their foreheads pressed together. "You are my everything." Then she stood up, but when she saw that he meant to follow she shook her head and he settled back against the cushions with a curious frown.

She stood in front of him, just out of his reach and removed her wand from the bodice of her dress; with intentional slowness she used it to unbutton the back of her gown. She held his gaze until she felt it fall from her body and watched with pleasure as his eyes widened and his breathing increased at the sight of the present she'd bought him on the mere hope he'd actually get to enjoy it.

"Oh gods," he gasped as he eyed her lace clad body.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Draco."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Voldemort fell.

It was almost impossible to believe. But he had crumpled to the ground, a victim of his own rebounded spell, and in front of hundreds of witnesses at that. He had died, just like any other mortal.

Because that was what he was, in the end. They'd made sure of that.

Hermione watched the culmination of the battle as Harry confronted Voldemort and everything else seemed to grind to a halt, and when it ended she knew that she was expected to run to Harry. It was what everybody else did. And she had more right than any of them to go to him and claim some of his attention. He was her best friend and she had been his constant companion for the past nine months. For these past seven years.

On top of that fact, Harry was the one who had just defeated the darkest wizard their world had seen in centuries. He should have been her first thought. And she loved Harry- she did.

But her heart was with Draco, and she'd sprinted for him instead.

Later, the rest of the world would understand. Not that she cared about it at the time, or afterwards, really.

But the fact was that their reactions that day, and the tale that they would tell in the aftermath, developed into a love story for the ages, immortalized in print and in film. Much to Hermione's amusement they became wizarding Britain's Romeo and Juliet- but they had been smart enough to avoid a tragic end.

Draco had finally truly been unmasked and Hermione never been so proud of anybody in her entire life.

They would both have preferred a more private reunion, but this would have to do. After everything Draco had done, everything he'd sacrificed, Hermione realized that she should have known that he wouldn't stay away from the final battle.

As much as she had wanted to curse him when she'd first spotted him, she understood that he would have wanted to come to help finish things off and couldn't really blame him for not staying safely in hiding. The merest hint that she might be here would have brought him here too. That, and he wanted to take down the monster as badly as she did; maybe even as badly as Harry did. She was honestly beginning to think he may have been mis-sorted because there was a Gryffindor streak in him that even he would be hard pressed to deny.

Despite the fact that he had been wearing a glamour like he had that night at the masque, she'd recognized him immediately, just as she had on that Valentine's Day more than a year before. His mother stood tall and proud at his side, her own glamour did nothing to disguise her regal bearing.

Hermione watched them efficiently- ruthlessly- take out Death Eater after Death Eater. She was not for a moment offended by their lethal tactics and could only be relieved that they could handle themselves, and that Voldemort's followers couldn't get back up to hurt some of the people here who were substantially less prepared to fight than the Malfoy mother and son duo. Hermione didn't relish killing, by any means, but she'd come to understand that sometimes it was necessary. People willing to invade a school full of children deserved little mercy.

Especially from Draco and his mother who had sacrificed so much, and who were more knowledgeable than most about what these people were capable of doing. But the real shock was Lucius Malfoy who looked like he'd not only crawled into a bottle, but had taken up residence there, and yet was standing at his wife's side despite not even having a wand he looked prepared to take on anybody who tried to harm her with his bare hands. Apparently, he also hadn't had any problem recognizing his wife and son, nor Hermione either, given the way his eyes went wide as he watched her run to Draco.

She threw herself at Draco; knowing that he would catch her. Her arms went around his neck, her legs around his waist. He didn't even stumble at her virtual assault. And as she was enveloped in his familiar scent she felt like she could truly let out a breath for the first time in a year, her lips almost immediately found his.

They stood like that for the longest time, mouths meeting, and hands searching, more as an affirmation that they were safe and whole, than for pleasure. They were actually together again, it seemed too good to be true. She finally came somewhat back to her senses when he finally did stumble under their combined weight.

She pulled away, only enough to place her forehead against his. "Sorry," she murmured, dropping her legs, and sliding down his body.

"Are you kidding me? I am more than fine with it. I've been waiting to hold you again for more than a year." He bumped their foreheads together. "And to say this."

"What's that?" She whispered.

"I love you."

She grinned, she'd fallen to sleep for the past ten months to the memory of his voice saying those words. And she'd love him no matter how he looked, but his dull blond hair and rounded features were disconcerting, because they were so foreign to her."Could you cancel the glamour, it feels weird to be with you like this, with you looking like that."

He chuckled and tapped the top of his head with his wand. The charm faded and his familiar, handsome features reappeared.

"Better?"

"Much better," she gently touched his cheek and then ran her fingers through his hair; it was shorter than it had been when she'd last seen him. Given the stress of their sixth year he'd allowed it to grow almost shaggy, this new style made him look older and even more handsome than ever.

She sighed as she remembered the last time she'd seen him.

In the days leading up to the end of the term the year before, Hermione had been slowly briefed on the plans Dumbledore had formulated to both keep her boyfriend as safe as possible, and to ingratiate Professor Snape with Voldemort to assure that he could, in turn, be as useful as possible to the Order; because, apparently the Headmaster had been dying.

Hermione had mixed feelings about it all. On one hand, if it worked, it was rather brilliant. On the other, Draco, a student who was supposed to be under Dumbledore's protection, had been manipulated into becoming his spy. And it all seemed more than a little reckless as well as being highly dangerous, and not just for those in the know, it put the entire school at risk.

But on the one opportunity Hermione had to speak with Dumbledore by herself, when she'd seen how frail and tired and sad- not because he was dying, exactly, but to be leaving them with a job still to be completed- she found it difficult to hold it against him. Especially after he entreated her to support Harry and Draco both, told her how proud he felt of them both. Because she felt the same way.

But even more than that, his usually cheerful visage had been anything but. His eyes had been absolutely haunted. She couldn't bring herself to do anything other than wish him peace, and wish the rest of them godspeed.

Less than two weeks after that conversation with Dumbledore, Draco snuck a group of Death Eaters into Hogwarts and then faked suicide by drinking Draught of the Living Death in front of them all of top of the Astronomy Tower, stating that he couldn't go through with his task, nor could he risk the Dark Lord's wrath.

They were betting that the supposed shame of his actions, but the fact that he'd mostly completed his task, would allow Narcissa to slip away to mourn, unhunted.

Once he'd collapsed from the effects of the potion Professor Snape had then confirmed his "death." Then he'd killed the headmaster himself, and made off with the rest of the Death Eaters. When it was all over Professor McGonagall, the only other person who'd been brought in on the plans, had awoken Draco and brought him to Hermione to perform the ritual to remove his Dark Mark.

Despite how relieved Hermione had been to see Draco alive and well, it didn't stop her cheeks from flaming like a house on fire when she came face to face with her head of house when they both knew she was about to do a sex ritual with her boyfriend; even though they were both of age and it was for a very important reason.

But, her embarrassment was nothing, in the end. In light of what turned out to be the most beautiful experience of her life. Their love fueled their magic, driving any lingering darkness away. All that was left was the beautiful connection she'd always felt with Draco, stronger than ever.

It was a memory which she would cling to for almost a year when she could neither hear from nor see the man that she loved. She hadn't even known where he'd been hiding. So, she'd clung to that memory through the frigid, lonely nights; it had kept her sane under brutal torture and gave her the strength to go on.

"You look beautiful, as always, but you're too thin," Draco murmured drawing her out of her thoughts, continuing to hold her tight. "Where have you been? There was so little news," he choked, his grip on her almost becoming painful. "Did you- for fuck's sake Hermione, did you actually break into Gringotts?"

She bit her lip. She wasn't foolish enough to think that the past months had been any easier for him than they had been for her. Even if he'd somehow been living in the lap of luxury- which she very much doubted- he would have worried himself sick about her, just as she had about him. And what she had to tell him about what had actually happened to her would only cause him pain.

"I'll tell you every little detail," she promised, "but later. Please, lets just have this moment."

He answered her by holding her even tighter and repeatedly kissing her temple.

Hermione melted into him and only really became aware of the outside world again when she heard Draco's mother tell his father to leave them be. And then the reality of their situation struck her. She hadn't realized it before now, but the Great Hall had gone silent, and she could practically feel hundreds of eyes boring into the back of her head. Her Gryffindor courage was depleted, she buried her face against Draco's chest.

But then a familiar voice- albeit one she hadn't heard in many years before today- was addressing her. "Hello Dear, I've missed you," Narcissa said, and Hermione could instantly tell that she was being genuine, not just attempting to be polite for appearance's sake, which was something that Hermione couldn't and wouldn't ignore. Especially in the face of the fact that this was Draco's mother addressing her, the mother for whom he'd sacrificed so much.

No, Hermione would not snub her, no matter how little she relished facing reality outside of Draco's arms at the moment. She discreetly wiped her eyes and took a few deep breaths.

Draco brushed his nose along her hairline. "It's okay, I've told her all about you and us. She's been practically chomping at the bit to see you again, she's thrilled about us," he soothed, misinterpreting her reticence.

Hermione peeked up to look at the woman she'd once idolized- because it would have been almost impossible for a little girl not to idolize a woman as beautiful and elegant as Narcissa Malfoy. She relaxed at the at the delighted look on her face. Narcissa had also removed her glamour and Hermione grinned at her. She'd forgotten how happy and relaxed that the usually stoic woman could appear. When she'd seen her in passing as an adolescent she'd almost looked like she was in pain- it had been like looking at a totally different person.

And she _had_ missed her.

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy. I've missed you too."

"Oh, I think it's long past time you started calling me Narcissa." She stepped forward and cautiously held out her arms. Draco's arms tightened reflexively around Hermione, preventing her from stepping away from him.

"Draco," his mother chastised, but her eyes were hesitant and her arms dropped to her sides.

He let out a long breath into Hermione's hair. "I'm sorry Mother, I know that you'd never harm her, it's just that I only now got her back."

Narcissa regarded them shrewdly for a few moments and then she simply stepped forward and embraced them both. Hermione sunk gratefully into her arms. It had been too long since she'd felt the love that only a mother can give; too long since she'd felt anything really, other than hunger, fear, and pain.

"It's good to finally have our family together," Narcissa said, loud enough for those around them to hear, obviously intending for them to do so, to demonstrate that she completely accepted Draco's choice.

Lucius scoffed.

"Be quiet, Lucius," Narcissa snapped whipping around to point at her husband. "You have no idea how much we owe this young woman, but even if we didn't, she is who Draco wants and that is all that matters."

"Well, since everybody else seems to have gone mute I'll say it: bloody hell!"

Hermione reluctantly lifted her head from Draco's chest and looked around to see Tonks hovering at the edge of the circle of people that had formed around them, she appeared to be some combination of shocked and amused. Her husband stuck closely by her side, but he looked far less surprised than she by what he was witnessing.

And it suddenly occurred to Hermione that his lupine senses had probably alerted him to the fact that something wasn't quite as it seemed between herself and Draco. Probably as long ago as the year he'd been their professor, as that was the year that they'd renewed their friendship. But Remus was a picture of circumspection, and she'd kept his secret, it looked like he'd kept hers in return.

She smiled at them, pleased to see they were both safe.

'Okay?' He mouthed in her direction.

She nodded; he nodded and smiled in return. Tonks smirked, eyes flicking between her, Draco, and Narcissa, and for the first time Hermione saw the Black family resemblance.

But then Tonks' face suddenly grew serious and she dipped her head towards Narcissa and stepped forward. "It's nice to finally meet you, Aunt. I heard you were the one to kill Bellatrix. Didn't know who you were at the time, of course, damn impressive glamours by the way, and that's coming from a metamorphmagus. But still, I wanted to thank you, she would have murdered a family member rather than seeing them live as a blood traitor, and I know she was after me. And as much as I don't want to admit it, I didn't relish facing her again."

Narcissa dipped her head in acknowledgement. "I can't pretend I did it for you. As you say, she would have cut Draco down without a second thought, he's loved Hermione since he was a very little boy, there was no separating them even if I'd wished it. But if it also helped keep you safe, I'm happy to hear it."

Tonks switched her attention back to Hermione and smiled slyly. "By the way, I can't wait to hear this story." She motioned between Hermione and Draco.

Hermione rolled her eyes and finally looked around. It was immediately clear that Professor McGonagall was keeping the masses at bay. With Professor Snape's death she was the only one in the room who new the full truth of Draco's allegiances, and Hermione thought she might actually have erected some kind of magical barrier against anybody who meant them harm.

After taking this in, Hermione quickly caught Harry's eye. He too was hovering around the edge of the circle, but he merely looked confused. However, he gave her a tentative smile. And she knew in that moment that he would eventually come to understand and to accept Draco, even if they might never be friends.

Ron, on the other hand, was being physically restrained by Bill and Percy; which wasn't a shock after the way he'd kissed her earlier. She blamed herself for letting him down too easily, not wanting to lose his friendship. She had hoped he would one day understand, but she knew she couldn't count on it

Draco squeezed her waist and she looked up at him to see concern painting his expression. "It's okay," she assured him.

"I'd hoped things would be different, now that it was all over," he responded.

"Maybe not all at once, but things are definitely improving."

She gestured to the sight of Narcissa embracing her nephew-in-law, her _werewolf_ nephew-in-law.

"Is it selfish to say the only thing I really care about is that I can finally be here with you in the open?"

"Maybe," she shrugged. "But then I'm selfish too. Now come on, let's go see Harry, I think it's time you met him properly"

Draco's eyes went wide and he groaned. "Oh, you're really going to make me eat those words aren't you?"

She just snickered and started tugging him in her friend's direction.

The End

**Author's note: Remus and Tonks live! Because Draco and Narcissa's presence made that much of a difference, and also because I say so! :) When I originally posted this I thought I had a complete story, but when I went to publish the third part I realized I kind of hated it and just couldn't do it. And let me tell you THAT led to a massive case of writer's block. So I just wanted to thank you for you patience and for sticking with it. You guys are wonderful! Also thanks to Weestarmeggie who, as usual, listened to me whine and who read this over. I started a new Dramione called "The Beginning of Everything." It went live earlier this evening and I'd love if you'd check it out! Thanks again.**


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